


Your Kitty

by Taliax



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Acts Like a Cat, F/M, Gabriel Agreste has no rights, I hope, Identity Reveal, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Or does he, Romance, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, set between weredad and kwamibuster somewhere, that's less relevant but always relevant in my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22541233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: “Such a dramatic kitty.”  Marinette scratched under his chin, bringing a smile to his face and a purr to his throat.Your kitty,he didn’t say.Wait.  What?(The one where Chat Noir thinks he needs pats like a cat, only to find out he may have jumped to the wrong conclusion.)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 135
Kudos: 1567





	Your Kitty

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Твой котёнок](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511574) by [trololonasty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trololonasty/pseuds/trololonasty)



> it's 2am, sounds like prime fic posting time
> 
> Edit: Also, thanks to Boogum, Chatnoirinette, and Marikittynoir/Mozzy's Studio for beta reading!!

“I wonder if Ladybug does anything like this,” Adrien murmured.

Marinette’s fingers froze where they’d been scratching behind his leather ears. Her other hand nearly dropped her pens and physics workbook on his face, which he really wouldn’t blame her for, considering his head was in her lap while she was trying to finish her homework.

“Like what?” she asked, her voice holding a note of hesitance. 

That happened sometimes when he brought up Ladybug. The note of hesitance. Adrien got the impression she thought his Lady should be the one to hold him like this—to run her hands through his hair and cradle him like he was something important, something _precious—_ but he knew better.

It wasn’t like Ladybug _wouldn’t,_ if he asked, if he explained, but... it wouldn’t be fair to expect that from her.

“You know.” His tail twitched before idly wrapping itself around her waist. He’d given up trying to stop it after the first few times—when he’d stammered embarrassed apologies only for her to laugh and reassure him that it was fine. “If she has any side effects from her miraculous.” 

His eyes drifted shut again when Marinette’s fingers combed through his hair, and he released the purr he’d been holding in. She still teased him about that sometimes, but it was like his Lady’s teasing. He knew she wasn’t actually judging him for his catlike tendencies.

“I can’t picture it,” Marinette finally replied. The workbook was set beside her on the chaise, forgotten. “What kind of animal instincts would Ladybug even have? Wanting to eat aphids?”

He chuckled at the thought of his Lady plucking bugs off a leaf. Knowing her, she’d somehow manage to make it look completely adorable and not weird at all. 

“Did you know ladybugs can secrete poison from their leg joints?” he asked.

Marinette stiffened again before a laugh burst from her. “No, I didn’t, but I doubt Ladybug has _that_ problem. I think you would’ve noticed by now.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s hidden by the suit.” 

He shifted so his cheek was better pillowed on the thin fabric of her leggings. She was seriously too good to him. He really should be helping her finish her homework. He’d already finished his own before transforming and coming over, but that didn’t mean he should distract her. 

“Someone would find out her identity, then,” she said. “You’ve told me your need for pats carries over outside of the suit. If she was, I don’t know, leaking slime from her kneecaps”—she stifled a laugh—“I think _someone_ would’ve noticed.”

“You’re right, as usual.” He sighed. It was still hard to shake the strange melancholy that had settled into him, no matter how gently Marinette stroked his hair. 

“Why are you so worried, anyway? You think she’ll leak slime on you?”

“My Lady can leak slime on me any time she wants.” He forced a grin.

“Chat, come on. You can tell me.”

She leaned over and scratched under his chin. Like he could keep secrets from her when she did _that._ He was just lucky she’d never use her powers for evil.

“I guess I just wonder, if she does have any ladybug instincts. If she… has someone like you.”

The admission was soft against the curve of her leg. _Someone like you._

Marinette didn’t ask invasive questions. She didn’t read the wrong meaning into his affectionate nuzzles. She had just ruffled his hair one time after he’d scooped her away from an akuma, and… well, they’d met often enough when he was suited up before that, but that was the time she’d _noticed_.

He’d melted at her touch, her warmth chasing away the jittery, restless anxiety that had built and built inside him. He was usually better at controlling his reactions to casual interactions like that, but he’d been caught off guard.

And somehow, miraculously, she’d offered her touch again. And again. He’d explained that it was a side effect of the cat miraculous; _anyone_ would be able to make him fall apart like that, and…

_“Well, we can’t have Hawkmoth taking advantage of that, now can we?”_

And so when the loneliness grew unbearable, when he just needed to be held and stroked and _warmed,_ he came to Marinette.

“What do you mean, someone like me?” she asked.

Her voice was nearly a whisper as she brushed his bangs away from his face. For all the lightness of her touch, the air had never felt so heavy.

“Y-you know. I’ve felt a lot better since I’ve been able to spend time with you… I just wonder if there’s someone taking care of her too.”

Assuming she needed anyone at all. She was _Ladybug;_ even if she did have insect tendencies, he couldn’t imagine she was as clingy as he’d become. Ladybugs wouldn’t crave physical touch like he did. But still, no matter what side effects she dealt with, he wished the one taking care of her could be _him._

Not that he could tell her that. Not when he’d never admitted his own desire to be pet and scratched. It would sound like he was making excuses to be touched by the girl he loved, and as amazing as that would feel, he would never take advantage of her kindness like that.

“Yeah,” Marinette murmured, her eyes looking distant as her fingers drifted through his hair. “I think someone is.”

Adrien couldn’t help the frown from tugging at his lips. Yes, he was trying to pull himself out of the hole that was his never-ending love for his partner. Yes, he absolutely wanted her to be happy, even if it was with someone else.

And yes, he was the biggest hypocrite in Paris for feeling jealous of Ladybug _hypothetically_ sharing her struggles with a stranger while he very literally cuddled in Marinette’s lap. 

“I’m sure she’s doing fine,” Marinette said, misreading the look on his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” 

Shame swept over him. Ladybug _deserved_ to have whoever she wanted, to have someone else bear the weight that she held on her slim shoulders. Ladybug instincts or not, he really did hope she wasn’t alone, wherever she was. 

“You could always just ask her, you know.” Marinette’s voice floated down over his drooping eyelids.

“I guess.” He sighed. “But then I’d probably have to explain…”

He gestured to both of them, his face heating. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Her voice turned teasing. “Afraid she won’t take your flirting seriously if she knew you were lying in another girl’s lap?”

_“Marineeeettttte,”_ he groaned. Rolling over to bury his face in her legs was probably not helping his case, but he was mortified enough without her seeing his red flush.

They weren’t like that. She knew that. He knew that, very much, and he would never have accepted her offer if he’d been harboring romantic feelings for her— 

But he _was_ lying in her lap.

“I know, I know.” She smiled and ruffled his hair, sending warm tingles all through him. “But really. She would understand.”

Adrien wasn’t so sure. His Lady was a stickler for the superhero rules. Somehow, even though it was unstated, he got the feeling that him cuddling with a civilian while suited up would bring that disappointed frown to her face.

Or, his optimistic side hoped, maybe she’d finally be jealous. 

(Not that there was anything to be jealous _of._ )

“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled, trying to figure out what emotion that thought stirred in his stomach.

“Don’t think too hard.” Marinette chuckled at the scowl peeking out through the fringe of his disheveled bangs. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He lifted his head just enough to stick his tongue out at her.

“Oh, what are you going to do now?” she asked. “Lick me?”

“Is that a challenge?”

She stuck her tongue out back at him. “Only if you want to lose pat privileges.”

“ _Anything_ but that,” he gasped dramatically, rolling over and tossing his arm over his face. This was familiar territory, safe territory. Joking with Marinette never failed to chase the gloom from his thoughts.

“Such a dramatic kitty.” She scratched under his chin, bringing a smile to his face and a purr to his throat. 

_Your kitty,_ he didn’t say. 

Wait. What? 

“Chat? Are you—?”

He bolted upright, suddenly feeling too warm for more reasons than one. He wasn’t Marinette’s. He _couldn’t_ be Marinette’s. He couldn’t _want_ to be Marinette’s. He was just used to this kind of banter with his partner, that was all.

“I, uh, sorry,” he choked. So much for her not seeing his red face. “Just… thought too hard and hurt myself.”

She let out a snorting laugh. “You’re something else, Chat Noir.”

Her fingers found their way into his hair again, and before he could summon up some better judgment, he was nestled into the curve between her neck and shoulder. It would have felt blissful, if not for the guilt gnawing in his stomach.

_Yeah. I’m “something else” alright._

XXX

“I’m a _wreck,_ Plagg,” Adrien groaned as he released his transformation and faceplanted on his bed.

“Yeah, yeah. What else is new?”

Adrien heard the mini fridge open and shut. When he dared to lift his head from the mattress, Plagg was holding an entire wheel of Camembert.

_“Plagg!”_

“What? If somehow, against all odds, you got it through your thick skull that you like bakery girl, it’s gonna take more cheese than this for me to sit through your moaning.”

Adrien reached out and tossed a pillow at his kwami. He bet Tikki never made fun of Ladybug like this.

_As if Ladybug would be as pathetic as me._

“I _don’t_ like Marinette… like that,” he mumbled, but his voice hardly sounded convincing, even to his own ears.

“Oh, please. Your heart was trying to jump out of your suit half the night. What happened?”

_I almost said I was her kitty._

A warmth pooled in his stomach, but was it from embarrassment? Shame? ...Hope?

He buried his head under another pillow. “Doesn’t matter. _She_ doesn’t like me like that.” 

He’d screwed up that opportunity a long time ago. 

Since they’d started spending more time together, she’d explained that her crush on Chat Noir had been a fleeting thing: strong in the moment, but just because she was trying to get over someone else. Not that she would ever tell him _who—_ and it wasn’t his place to ask. They might share time and touches, study sessions and game nights, but secrets like that?

It wasn’t like he was afraid to ask… and he was pretty sure it was Luka, anyway. Marinette and Luka had gone on enough dates without ever becoming official.

_Since when do you think so much about Marinette’s love life? You’re in love with Ladybug!_

If he wasn’t sure it would’ve woken Nathalie, he would’ve screamed into his pillow.

“Kid.” Plagg dropped the half-eaten cheese wheel on the bed, where it bounced slightly. “The whole _doom and gloom_ look isn’t good on you. And I’m a harbinger of doom; I would know.”

“Of course you would. You’re the reason I’m in this mess!” Adrien rolled onto his side, putting him face to face with his kwami. “If it wasn’t for my _stupid_ cat instincts…”

He never would’ve spent so much time with Marinette. He never would’ve realized how funny she could be when she wasn’t tripping over her words—something she never did around Chat, for some reason. He never would’ve played Ultimate Mecha Strike with her without worrying that Nathalie would call him home any moment. He never would’ve seen her cute nose scrunch when she got in the designing zone, completely forgetting that he was draped over her back. He never would’ve felt her soft hands combing through his hair, scratching behind his ears, stroking under his chin…

Plagg looked away, a guilty glint in his green eyes. “Ha, ha. Right…”

Adrien winced. His kwami—his _friend—_ didn’t deserve the way he’d talked to him.

“Sorry, Plagg.” He reached out and cradled his kwami close. “I know you can’t help the side effects of the miraculous. It’s more than worth it to get to have you.”

Plagg shook his head. “You’re right. It’s _not_ my fault. Maybe I should’ve told you sooner…”

Adrien propped himself up on one arm, still holding Plagg in his other hand. “Told me what?”

Plagg looked like he’d swallowed stinky cheese. Well, Plagg _liked_ stinky cheese. Like he’d swallowed something that actually tasted good, then.

“You don’t have cat instincts, alright?” 

Plagg turned away, so he didn’t see Adrien’s mouth drop open.

“What? But then—why do I—”

“Humans need affection too, you know,” the kwami said softly. “You seemed to think it was just because of me, so I… let you believe it. It made you feel less awkward, so why not, right?”

“That can’t be right. That doesn’t even make any _sense.”_ Adrien sat upright now, his heart pounding in his chest. “I purr! _That’s_ definitely a cat instinct!”

“Technically that’s one of your powers. It’s meant to help you heal, since Chat Noirs tend to take a lot of hits.”

Adrien vaguely remembered reading about cats’ purrs promoting healing when he’d studied up on the animals connected to their miraculouses. 

“I thought we were all about destruction,” he said weakly.

“That’s the thing about balance, kid. If we were _just_ destruction, we’d never balance out Ladybug. She’s got a couple of not-so-pretty powers of her own, if Tikki ever bothered to tell her about them.”

“Like _you_ bothered to tell me about the purring?” He raised an eyebrow. “And that I _don’t_ have cat tendencies?”

Plagg met his eyes. “I was just trying to help, Adrien. You _needed_ someone to take care of you. Better than I can.”

“Apparently I didn’t! Apparently I’m just—am I just… lonely?” He frowned at the bedspread, tracing the wrinkles in it with one finger.

“Not just lonely. You’re touch starved, Adrien.” Plagg flew up into his face, where he knew he couldn’t be ignored. “Face it: your dad sucks. Nathalie sucks. Don’t make that face; she does! And since the only people who throw themselves at _Adrien_ are creeps— _yes,_ that includes Chloe—you needed some kind of affection as Chat Noir. I didn’t even lie to you. You made up the explanation yourself for why it felt so nice when Marinette pet you, so don’t go blaming me for that, either.”

Adrien’s jaw finally snapped shut. Plagg had… Plagg had tried to help him. In his own misguided way, sure, but…

“Thanks, Plagg,” he mumbled, scratching his kwami under the chin before flopping back onto his bed. “But I can’t keep doing this.”

“What? Why not? Bakery girl doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t mind because she thinks it’s a side effect of _you._ If she knew I was just using her because I’m _lonely_ or whatever...”

It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. He _did_. Nino would smack him on the back, and Alya would give him friendly nudges, and Marinette… well maybe Marinette wouldn’t willingly touch him in his civilian form, but still. Even if he only saw Nino and Alya at school… that had to be enough, wouldn’t it?

No. It was definitely, definitely _not_ enough, not when he was used to spending hours at Marinette’s house at least two nights a week. Could he really give that up?

“I have to tell her,” he whispered. “I won’t use Marinette like that. It’s wrong.”

Plagg sighed. “I just want you to be happy, kid. Does being around her make you happy?”

_More than anything besides being with Ladybug._

But time with Ladybug was time spent fighting for their lives. While he wouldn’t trade that for anything, it was nice to have a place where he could completely relax, where he didn’t have to be anything more complicated than a friend...

She _was_ still just a friend, right? He was just overreacting. So he’d had one thought about wanting to be hers… one thought that would normally be directed towards Ladybug. He’d just gotten caught up in her teasing, that was all.

(But that didn’t explain the itching, apparently _human_ desire to be close to her.)

“Adrien. Earth to Adrien.” Plagg waved a paw in front of his face.

_“Yes,”_ he belatedly answered Plagg’s question in a huff. “Marinette makes me happy. That’s why I won’t take advantage of her friendship.”

“Ugh, you are _such_ a goody two-shoes. Tikki would’ve loved you.”

Plagg’s grumpy expression brought a small smile back to Adrien’s face.

“But then you’d have to be Ladybug’s kwami. I bet she’s even more of a goody two-shoes than me.”

“Ladybug? A goody two-shoes?” Plagg cackled. “Pfft, as _if,_ kid.”

Right. Plagg had actually spent time with Ladybug, unmasked, on at least one occasion. Apparently enough to form an opinion on her personality.

“What? You know something I don’t?” He hoped the question sounded casual enough and not like the fishing it was. Complicated feelings for Marinette aside, he could never pass up an opportunity to learn more about his Lady.

“First of all, that you need more confidence. And second, that Ladybug would be even _more_ of an emotional wreck than you. Tikki’s always better with the lovesick girls.”

_Lovesick._ Because Ladybug still loved someone else, even if she was kind enough to avoid talking about him around Chat.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he liked Marinette after all... Except she’d told him she didn’t like him either.

This time he _did_ scream into his pillow.

“Tikki would probably be better with the lovesick boys, too.” Plagg sighed before nuzzling under the pillow with him. “Come on, kid. I’ll split my Camembert with you. Then you can get some sleep and realize that the world _isn’t_ ending.”

Coming from Plagg, that was a pretty good pep talk. Enough of one to help Adrien peel his face from the pillowcase, anyway.

“I don’t need your cheese,” he mumbled, though Plagg offering to share his favorite treat warmed him. “And I don’t need Tikki, either. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”

Plagg froze for a minute, but didn’t flit away when Adrien scratched his head.

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’d be lost without me.”

As much as Plagg was right about that, Adrien still wasn’t convinced that a good night's sleep would fix all his problems. Especially considering he only had… about six hours until he had to wake up. How long had he stayed at Marinette’s? She was usually better about kicking him out once it got late. Or maybe he’d just been sulking on his bed longer than he realized.

Oh well. With the way his thoughts were still bouncing between the two incredible girls in his life, he probably wouldn’t get much sleep, anyway.

XXX

“Y’know, girl, if you needed a coffee this morning you could’ve asked me.”

Alya’s voice startled Adrien into something resembling consciousness. His head snapped up from his desk in time to see Alya lead a stumbling Marinette into the classroom.

“’S fine,” she slurred, rubbing her eyes. “Just... gimme a few minutes...”

Crap. Not only had he been accidentally using her for his own selfish reasons, but he’d also taken her away from the sleep she obviously needed. 

Next time, she could fall asleep in his lap, and he’d stroke her silky hair and nothing bad would ever bother her. 

Wait, where had _that_ come from? Even if it was a nice thought, he knew it was a complete fantasy. There wouldn’t _be_ a next time.

He only realized he’d been staring blearily at Marinette when she froze.

“Hi, Adrien,” she managed to say, stifling a yawn. “I don’t look _that_ bad, do I?”

Alya blinked between them, looking even more surprised than Adrien. Though he barely noticed, considering his attention was stolen by the way Marinette could make even sleep deprivation look like a style choice. He was pretty sure her favorite shirt was on backwards, though, the embroidery missing from its place near her neckline.

“You look great,” he blurted. “I mean, you always look great, but—sorry you didn’t get much sleep.”

Marinette stared as if he’d just said he was Hawkmoth. Meanwhile, Alya’s eyes gained a predatory gleam that had Adrien gulping.

“Why’s that, Adrien?” Alya asked. “You know what’s got my girl practically catatonic this morning?”

Heh. _Cat_ atonic. He couldn’t help an ill-timed chuckle at that.

_Man,_ he really needed to go back to bed.

“Nope. No idea,” he lied. 

But apparently, that response combined with his definitely-not-guilty laugh (it was the _pun_ he was laughing at, but couldn’t exactly explain that) was not enough for Alya. Her gaze shrewdly flicked between him and Marinette, discerning enough to make him sweat. Alya’s nose for a story was bad enough, but if he gave away his secret in front of _Marinette…_

He was already going to ruin their connection as Chat Noir. He didn’t want to screw up their friendship as Adrien, too.

(And besides, Ladybug would kill him for being so careless, and he might get Plagg taken away, and a million other things he refused to think about.)

If anyone would get revealed because he laughed at a pun that shouldn’t have even been a pun, it would be him.

“Mari, you _would_ tell me if Adrien was your mystery boy, right?” Alya asked slyly. 

Adrien made a strangled noise. “M-mystery boy?”

Crap. _Crap._ He was so, so screwed. He already knew Ladybug was in love with someone else, but Marinette had a _mystery boy_ too?

_“Alya!”_ Marinette’s eyes bugged out as she slapped her friends’ arm. At least that fully diverted both girls’ attention from him. “Adrien’s not—I _told you_ not to ask about him!” Her voice was practically a hiss.

Adrien’s face heated. He probably wasn’t supposed to hear that either, and he couldn’t imagine why Alya would’ve said that where he could hear. Unless she’d caught on to Adrien’s growing feelings and wanted to spare him before he got hurt?

(No, that was ridiculous. He didn’t _have_ feelings for Marinette.)

(And if he did, surely _Alya_ wouldn’t realize before he did.)

Adrien was dying to ask who the _mystery boy_ was, but Marinette’s panicked expression was more than enough to ward him off of that idea. If even Alya didn’t know, there was no way she’d tell him.

“Alright, alright. Sorry, girl,” Alya apologized more gently. “You mind telling me why you both look like you stumbled out of zombieland, though?”

To his surprise, Marinette’s face burned bright red. Her eyes darted to Adrien’s, which didn’t make any sense, because _he_ sure didn’t have a good excuse to give Alya. And frankly, he was exhausted from over-analyzing his feelings for Marinette and— 

“I was just up designing again. You know how I get sometimes.”

For someone who hated liars, Marinette didn’t seem too bad at lying herself. Adrien was grateful, though. He knew she wouldn’t expose Chat like that, not even to her best friend. It wouldn’t be safe for anyone to know how much he cared for Marinette. As a friend or otherwise.

“Again?” Alya said, raising her eyebrows. “Please tell me you finished the physics homework first at least.”

“Haha, _about_ that…”

And he’d kept her away from the homework, too. He dropped his face on his desk, managing to feel even worse. If it weren’t for the fact that Marinette would never go for it, he would’ve let her copy his answers. Maybe he could help her speed through it in between classes? 

Either way, it wouldn’t happen again. Tonight he would explain everything to Marinette, before he could talk himself out of it.

However horrible he’d feel afterwards, at least he would no longer be a burden to her.

XXX

“Marinette?” Adrien tapped a claw on her skylight. She wouldn’t be expecting him—he never came two nights in a row—but he couldn’t sit in front of her another day with the weight of this unspoken conversation on his chest.

He’d confessed enough times to Ladybug while knowing that he’d be rejected. Just think of this like that. 

(Only he knew that no matter how many times Ladybug rejected him, she’d still _be_ there. Marinette wouldn’t—not like she was now.)

_Get a grip, Agreste. You’re not a cat. You don’t need pats._

It didn’t matter what Plagg said. He could find another way to stave off his desire for physical touch, the coldness that seemed deeper than his bones. Maybe he could convince Father to allow some time in his schedule for a massage, or he could try heated blankets, or he could just resign himself to Chloe’s strangling hugs.

(But none of those would feel like Marinette.)

He heard her talking animatedly below, but couldn’t make out much of her actual words. It just sounded… panicked? He’d talked Marinette out of her spiraling thoughts a few times, like when she’d been worried about him modeling her hat design, but he didn’t know that she’d appreciate him intruding now. She might be on the phone with Alya, or her parents might be down there… 

His belt tail lashed back and forth as he tried to come to a decision—

Aaaaand his tail made the decision for him when it knocked over one of her flowerpots. He winced at the loud shatter. 

(Just one more thing he owed Marinette, but at least he could afford to replace a broken pot.)

He was scrambling to at least scoop the little purple flowers up so they weren’t buried under the dirt when Marinette’s head peeked out from the skylight.

“Chat? What are you—” Her eyes widened at the spilled blossoms.

“I’ll get you a new pot,” he said quickly, holding out the uprooted flowers like a peace offering before realizing how dumb he must look. “Um. I just, ah, tripped as I was passing by, but I should get going—”

“Oh no you don’t, kitty.” She climbed up onto the balcony, taking the handful of flowers and dirt from him and setting it on the ledge. “You know you don’t have to lie and break my stuff to have an excuse to visit. Even if I did just see you yesterday.”

While her voice was firm, her eyes were searching him with less certainty, flickering back and forth, reflecting the dim glow of her multicolored string lights. 

(It would still be bright enough for her to see right through him. It always was.)

“Chat? Hey, are you okay?” She stepped closer, her brows pulling together as he stared stupidly.

“Uh, actually…” He swallowed. His hands were still covered in dirt, and he couldn’t stop rubbing them together. “I wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” If she hadn’t looked worried before, she definitely did now. Her eyes scanned the balcony before looking back to the skylight. “Did you want to come in?”

Yes. No. He shouldn’t. Her room was so cozy, and it felt more like home than his cold bedroom ever had. The temptation to cuddle with her and soak up that feeling of belonging might be too strong. Not that it wasn’t nearly overpowering already.

He was _so_ screwed.

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “Hold on though, I’ll—blankets!”

Seeing her practically dive back through the skylight brought a grin to his face. She was just so _cute—_

Screwed. Screwed, screwed, _screwed._

He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, forgetting that dirt still clung to his gloves. 

_Wow, Adrien. Just full of great ideas tonight, huh?_

He wished Plagg could come out of the suit for moral support. No, Plagg would just make fun of him. But maybe that would at least take the bite out of his nerves.

Muffled grunts came from Marinette’s room, and Adrien finally snapped out of it enough to open the skylight for her.

“Thanks.” She shoved the blankets up in a loose bundle before emerging herself. “Here. I guess it’s not _that_ cold, especially for you, but…”

“It is for you.”

He smiled and took one of the blankets, draping it around her bare shoulders. Her pajama tank wasn’t warm enough for the early fall night. She was generous enough to talk to him out here at all. He wasn’t going to make her freeze on top of it.

Her face looked a little pinker, but it was probably just a trick of the lights. She held his gaze while wrapping the other blue blanket around him.

“Yeah, well. I would’ve made us hot chocolate if you’d given me a little more warning, but it sounds too important to wait.”

“It’s… yeah. It is.”

He sighed. His dirty claws left streaks on the soft fabric as he pulled it more tightly around himself. He’d rather pull it over his head and hide than have this conversation, but no amount of shivering fear would stop him from being honest with her.

“First of all, I just want you to know I’m so, _so_ sorry, Marinette.” His hands fisted in the blanket. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, and I promise, I will never do it again.”

A teardrop stained the blue fabric. As if he didn’t sound hopeless enough.

“Chat, I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you haven’t—”

“Please, just let me finish.” His voice trembled. She was still too good to him, somehow even more out of his league than Ladybug. No wonder it had taken him so long to realize how he felt for her.

How he felt. It wasn’t the same as what he felt for Ladybug, but… if he was being honest with her, then he needed to be honest with himself too. Plagg could see it. _Alya_ could probably see it.

But that wasn’t the secret he was confessing to. Not now, not here, not as Chat. He needed to focus.

She nodded for him to go on, but now the words kept sticking in his throat.

_Just think of it like confessing to Ladybug. It’s something important, so you need to say it, no matter what comes next._

“I’m not a cat,” he finally burst, like a clogged sink clearing a block. Marinette’s head tilted in confusion, but he didn’t give her time to interrupt. “I mean, I don’t—I don’t have cat tendencies. From the miraculous. I thought I did but Plagg just let me believe that because he thought you were good for me and I—I’m so sorry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from rambling. He wasn’t making any sense; she wouldn’t know who Plagg was; she’d think he was making excuses— 

“Plagg thought… wait, I’m confused.” Her brow furrowed. “You _didn’t_ like it when I gave you pats?”

“I did!” His face heated. Maybe he should just jump off the balcony now. “I love spending time with you, Marinette, but I… it’s not because I’m Chat Noir. But I didn’t know until yesterday, I swear, and I’m sorry—”

“Chat.” Her hand snuck out from under her blanket to wrap around his palm. _“Breathe.”_

He did.

“Now let me see if I’m understanding,” she said slowly. “You don’t have cat instincts.”

He nodded, hanging his head despondently.

“But you still like it when I pet you.”

Another embarrassed nod. This was it. This was the part where she told him he was messed up, and she never wanted to see him again—

“Do you…” She bit her lip. Her palm burned against his, even through the suit. “Do you like me?”

Oh.

Oh _no._

He did not want to dump this on her now—or ever, actually, now knowing she had some mystery boy as the target of her affections. Especially not after he’d just admitted to something so mortifying.

But he couldn’t lie about his feelings, either. 

“I think so,” he murmured through a wince. “I wouldn’t have come to you for pets if I’d realized. I never meant to take advantage of your friendship—that’s why I never went to Ladybug—but I guess I… yeah. Just another thing I was too dumb to realize…”

He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to see the awkwardness that must be written on her face. _Stupid, stupid…_

“I can’t believe it,” Marinette whispered. “You too?”

Him— _too?_ Wait, what?

“You’ve got more boys lined up waiting to fall in love with you? Wait, don’t answer that. Stupid question.” He chuckled to hide the fact that his heart felt as cracked as the flowerpot he’d shattered. He knew for a fact that almost every boy (correction, _everyone_ ) in their class had had a crush on Marinette at some point. Of course he wouldn’t stand out, superhero or not.

“No, Chat, I mean—I felt so bad about it, when I started to…”

He finally looked up, meeting her watering eyes. He’d come to try and fix his mistakes, but he’d only made her feel worse. Maybe Plagg had been right, but he was never one who could keep his mouth shut about the people he cared about. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, untangling himself from her blanket, feeling another pang of guilt over the dirt stains left there. “I’ll—you don’t have to explain yourself. I won’t bother you any—”

_“Chat,”_ she huffed, this time sounding a bit exasperated. “I never said I wanted you to leave.”

“O-oh.” He settled back down, cross-legged, biting his lip and looking anywhere but at her. 

_This isn’t like talking with Father,_ he reminded himself. _She’s not going to lecture you. She might be upset, but she’s not like that._

She… maybe she wouldn’t hate him, either. She had been too sweet, too kind to turn around just like that, right? Except, if there was one thing Marinette _did_ hate, it was liars.

A dry chuckle bubbled from her lips. “I didn’t think you normally ran away after attempting a confession like that. You were always the brave one…”

“Yeah. Well.” He gulped. “I guess I do have some experience with rejection… I just didn’t want to make this more awkward for you than it already was. Is.”

“It’s not, though,” she assured him, reaching out to fold one of his still-dirty hands in hers. “I mean. It is a _little_ awkward, but… it doesn’t have to be?”

He caught her gaze again. She was looking up at him hopefully. Maybe she thought they could just pretend this hadn’t happened?

“I promise this is as surprising for me too, but…” She took a deep breath. “I like you too, Chat Noir.”

The look on her face froze in his memory. The way her lips curved upwards, her eyes peeking up through dark lashes, as if too nervous to meet his gaze directly.

“You— _what?”_ His heart struggled to restart. “But what about your mystery boy?”

Her face flushed, too deep to be from the cold. “I could say the same thing. What about Ladybug?”

He winced—because, fair, he _did_ still love Ladybug—and it wasn’t like he’d planned on confessing to Marinette while his heart was still torn between the two of them! Heck, he’d hardly even dreamed she could return his budding feelings. He was sure, given time, they could be nurtured into something that would rival his desperate love for Ladybug, even if what he felt for Marinette was a different type of love, a different flavor. Ladybug was _bold_ and overpowering and the first thing he thought about when he woke up, slamming into him like a punch, leaving him hopeless and smitten. Marinette was soft and _safe_ and the warmth of a home and the comfort of a rising sun, slow and dim at first, but growing until you couldn’t imagine anything brighter.

He could have the chance to see that dawn.

“I love Ladybug,” he said, his brows drawing together pensively beneath his mask. “I won’t deny that. I _can’t_ deny that, but I can’t lie and say I feel nothing for you, either.”

“O-oh,” she stuttered. “I understand. More than you might know.”

“Really?”

“Y-yeah. You remember my mystery boy, obviously...”

It was a good thing they’d both talked about their heartbreak on her balcony before, or else she might’ve been more suspicious at how he knew that. But if the mystery boy _was_ the same one who’d hurt her back then—that meant she’d been attached to him for almost a _year._

Of course, he could say the same about himself and Ladybug. But it wasn’t like she’d meant to hurt him. He knew that, and they were partners; he wasn’t sure he could separate himself from her if he tried.

But Marinette was amazing too, and she—against all odds— _still liked him._ Even though he’d broken her heart and gotten her dad akumatized. Even though he’d accidentally tricked her into spending time with him…

“Chat? Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories…”

“No, that’s not it at all. I was just… thinking. Please, go on.”

“Right… I just mean, I don’t expect you to, like, choose between us or anything. I know how it feels to like two amazing people…”

“And I’m one of them?” He whispered, still hardly able to believe it.

Marinette chuckled. “You know, when I pictured this in my head, you were a lot more smug about it.”

“You were going to tell me?”

“Not—like this.” She frowned. “We’re friends, Chat, more than anything. And you’re also a superhero, and I’ve still got… my own issues with my other crush…”

“The mystery boy,” he murmured, resting back on his hands and allowing himself a moment to wonder who it could be. Not Luka, because Alya would surely know about that… and she’d know about anyone else in the class, he’d bet, so then who?

Oh. _Oh._ Just the boy whose name she didn’t know, who showed up in a catsuit on Marinette’s balcony.

But… if _Chat_ was the mystery boy Alya mentioned, then who had been Marinette’s first crush _?_

“Still hung up about that, huh?” Marinette nudged him with her shoulder, reminding him how much he just wanted to curl up with her now that he knew she wasn’t upset. “I guess it’s fair. I know who your crush is, after all.”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want. I don’t want you to tell me just because you feel like you owe me.” If anything, he still owed _her_ for just being the person she was.

“No, I might as well let you know the kind of competition you’re up against. Because believe me, if he wasn’t in the picture…”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and looked up into his eyes.

“I get the feeling this would be a very different conversation,” he replied softly. _Maybe a conversation without any words at all,_ he thought with a cautious, flickering glance at her lips.

But he couldn’t, not when he couldn’t give her his full heart, either.

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “Sometimes, I wish I could just…”

“Just what?” He prompted as his tail wrapped around her. He should probably stop that now that he knew it was him that controlled it, consciously or not. But she just brushed her fingertips across the edge of the animated leather.

“Get over him.” Her sigh mixed with a mirthless chuckle. “Sometimes I feel like we’re back where we started, the first time you visited me up here. But we’re not.”

_We._ The thought that that could even be a _concept_ both terrified and thrilled him. 

“You don’t have to get over him,” he said as he leaned his cheek against her hair, following her gaze out towards the gibbous moon. “I mean, unless you tell me he’s a jerk or something… but I doubt anyone who’s held your heart for this long could be bad.”

_Though definitely blind, to not see such an amazing girl in front of him._

“He’s not. He’s—he’s _wonderful.”_ And he could hear it in her voice, the same smitten longing that came through his lips every time he gushed about Ladybug to Plagg. “I’ve just never had the courage to tell him how much he means to me. Or when I do, something always goes wrong.” She chuckled sadly. “And I thought _you_ were supposed to be the one with the bad luck, but you can at least tell your crush how you feel about her... or at least, you used to.”

Adrien pulled back, blinking. “What do you mean?”

Marinette’s eyes widened, and she waved her hands rapidly. “Ah—I just, follow the Ladyblog sometimes! And it seemed like, well, from what other people can see, anyway… you’re not flirting with Ladybug as much?”

His face warmed beneath his mask. That fact was half due to Ladybug having made it clear where they stood enough times, and half due to the girl sitting next to him. Even if he only realized that recently.

“You know how it goes. Can’t have both cakes and eat them too.” He shrugged, and she leaned back on her palms with a giggle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes. And I live above a bakery; there’s always room for more cakes.” 

“Heh. Bad metaphor, then.” He grinned ruefully. “I guess I just mean… no matter who I love, she deserves my one hundred percent, you know? Whether it’s you, or Ladybug, or whoever…”

“Yeah. I get it. You and Adrien both deserve my one hundred percent too… though, actually, you might not _want_ my one hundred percent.” She cringed, rubbing her arm awkwardly, completely unaware of the hundred-volt shock she’d sent through his system.

“A- _Adrien?_ He’s the other boy you…”

“Yeah,” she mercifully cut him off, looking up to take in his stunned stare. “What? Surprised I’d fall for a gorgeous model with a heart of gold? I did say that you had some fierce competition.”

She flicked his nose, breaking him out of his trance but setting every nerve ending aflame.

It was him. Her mystery boy, and the boy who had broken her heart all that time ago—it had always been _him._

She _had_ given him one hundred percent. She just didn’t know it.

“You—and he _hasn’t_ melted at your feet yet?” He managed to get out, because _man,_ that was about five seconds from happening.

“It’s sweet that you think he would… but the heart doesn’t always work like that.” 

Her knees were tucked up under her chin, her arms wrapping around her shins, her blanket falling to the side. Hers bore streaks of dirt too, some odd part of his mind noted.

“Only because he doesn’t know,” he insisted, a whole new well of emotion threatening to burst in his chest. “You could try again. You might be surprised.”

“And _you_ could try again with Ladybug.”

“You know, for someone who just claimed to have feelings for me, you’re sure ready to set me up with someone else.” He half-pretended to pout.

“I didn’t—w-well you did first!” She glared back, but couldn’t help cracking a smile, then a laugh.

And then it was bubbling out of him, too, loud and carefree in the crisp air.

“We’re both kind of hopeless, aren’t we?” Marinette smiled at him. 

“Absolutely, Princess.”

For a moment, he just basked in the warmth of that smile. Then her arms were encircling him, wrapping both him and her together in her pink blanket. 

“We don’t have to figure it all out right now, but… you know I’ll always be here for you, right?”

“Really?” he asked.

“I know at first you only came because you said you were craving physical touch because of your miraculous. Maybe it’s not for that reason, but you still—you don’t have to be alone.”

He was still reeling from all of the revelations of the night, but her words grounded him. That’s what he’d been afraid of, wasn’t it? Of being left alone, of losing her friendship, even more than losing her touch.

“That means more to me than you know,” he said softly, the corner of his smile touching her cheek. “I still wish I hadn’t accidentally lied to you, but I’m so glad we’ve become friends. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Get a lot less cuddles, for one.” Her laugh tickled the back of his neck, sending a pleasant shiver through him.

“Wait, are cuddles are still on the table?” He asked.

“If you still want them,” she replied a little nervously. “I mean… you didn’t like me when you first wanted me to help you, and you said you don’t need to be pet because of the miraculous… I guess I got so caught up in the fact that you like me that I forgot about that part.”

“Oh.” He leaned back, though he couldn’t go too far with her blanket still wrapped around the both of them. “So, uh, Plagg said it’s a human thing. Not a cat thing. Something about being touch starved, whatever that means.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. No matter how much he trusted Marinette, it was still a little embarrassing to admit that he’d come to her so often at first just because he was lonely.

“Touch starved…?”

“Yeah, I googled it after…” Well, after realizing he wasn’t going to get any more pats from Marinette, but that wasn’t as relevant now. “Anyway. Apparently it’s more common in less touchy countries like America, but my family isn’t exactly open with affection.” _Or around to show affection at all._

“Oh, kitty.” She was hugging him again, so tightly it might’ve knocked the breath from him if he weren’t suited up. “I meant what I said. I’m _always_ here for you. That includes helping you fight your dad, if you want.”

He laughed at the thought of Marinette punching renowned fashion icon Gabriel Agreste—

Wait. He hadn’t told Marinette about his issues with his father, had he? For fear of her connecting the dots to his identity, he couldn’t be that specific. The only one he’d mentioned Father to was…

Ladybug.

His mouth went dry. Maybe that fact alone he could’ve brushed off, but she also hadn’t reacted to his mentions of Plagg. _And_ there was the matter of her saying he could try asking Ladybug out again.

“No way,” he whispered.

She still hadn’t let go of him, so he couldn’t stare into her eyes, check that they were the exact same shade of ocean blue. But he didn’t need to. Who else would be perfect enough for him to fall for _twice?_

“No way what? I might be short, but I still bet I could kick your dad’s butt into next week.”

A laugh snorted out of him. She technically _had_ fought his dad before when he was akumatized into the Collector.

“You know I’d never bet against you, my Lady.”

He felt her breath stop in the moment before she scrambled out of his arms, staring at his grin as if he was a particularly terrifying akuma. 

“You—how did you—”

He smiled sheepishly. Spooking her wasn’t his intention, but his heart was still soaring too high to completely regret it. He’d fallen for _both sides of her,_ just like he’d always wanted! Sure, he’d always assumed he’d know his Lady the moment their eyes met outside of the mask, but that was hardly a disappointment when she turned out to be _Marinette._

“I never told Marinette about my father,” he explained as inside he screamed _yes, yes, YES!_

“Crap,” she muttered, hands pressed to her cheeks. “I knew I’d screw up like this eventually. Tikki is going to _kill_ me.”

He winced at that. But she’d known the risk, and she’d still made time to spend with him. Coming from his Lady, that meant more than anything.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” He asked nervously. “I mean, you didn’t mean to, and it’s just me.”

“Of course _you’re_ happy.” She gave him a halfhearted glare. “You just found out both of the girls you like are the same girl.”

“I get to have both cakes and eat them too. Sounds pretty _purr_ fect for me.” 

She snorted. “Except for the part where I still like someone else, too.”

He couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face if he’d tried. “Somehow I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Oh, so _now_ you get smug. Don’t make me regret telling you I like you, kitty.” She flicked his bell, and a part of his soul left his body. How was he going to survive Marinette _and_ Ladybug flirting with him?

By flirting back as Chat Noir _and_ Adrien, of course.

“Trust me, you won’t. But you _might_ regret threatening to kick Gabriel Agreste’s butt.”

His grin stretched impossibly wider as Marinette’s face shuffled through about ten emotions in two seconds. Confusion, shock, a swooning look he wished he could photograph, sheer terror, starry-eyed glee—how could one face show so much?

“It’s okay,” he assured her, mostly in response to the Sheer Terror part. “I won’t tell my father you threatened to fight him. Your future fashion career is safe.”

“What? No, I’ll still fight him. I’ll fight him _twice._ I just can’t believe I told you about my crush on— _you!”_

She broke down into hysterical laughter, with an emphasis on the _hysterical._ Was telling her a bad idea? Maybe she hadn’t wanted to know. She wanted to make sure they didn’t lose their miraculous, but it wasn’t like Master Fu could replace both of them. Honestly, he couldn’t replace Ladybug at all, but Adrien figured if they both knew each other’s identities, they could at least split the Master’s anger. Adrien would never leave his Lady to face those consequences alone.

“Marinette…?” He hesitantly reached for her shaking shoulder.

“I fight supervillains with _Adrien Agreste!”_ She burst, shocking him back.“Adrien is on my balcony in a catsuit!”

Okay, that was one way they _would_ get their miraculouses taken.

“Please, say it louder. I don’t think the other half of Paris heard you.”

She slapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m fine,” she said through her fingers. “Well, I’m _going_ to be. This is just—it’s a lot to take in, you know? Five minutes ago I was wondering how I could choose between the two sweet boys in my life, and… of course they’re the same person. Even if I never would’ve guessed Adrien was a massive flirt and _in love with me this whole time—”_

Part of him wanted to tease her about that, but the rest of him was too concerned with keeping her from hyperventilating.

“You were also in love with _me_ the whole time,” he pointed out, which may not have been the most helpful fact.

“I let you _sleep on my lap!”_

“Marinette,” he said as calmly as he could, trying to get her wide eyes to focus on him. “It’s okay, right? I mean, you said cuddling was fine when you only knew I was Chat Noir…”

“It’s fine! I’m fine. I just can’t believe this is actually happening.” 

The star-eyed looked returned to her face, and it was a miracle he didn’t scoop her up and kiss her right there.

“Me either,” he laughed, settling for squeezing her hands instead. It would be nice to detransform and hold her without the suit between them, but he didn’t know if that would give her a heart attack.

“So…” She trailed off, her face reddening. “What do we do now?”

He scooted closer. Her face leaned towards his, until their foreheads were nearly touching.

“Well. I like both of you,” he said, his heart beating faster.

“And I like both of you.” 

“So we could…”

“We could…?”

His breath mixed with hers, their lips close enough to brush—gah, his lips were so dry, he hadn’t thought this through, and what if his breath smelled bad— 

He barely had time to second guess before Marinette’s mouth was on his. Soft and clumsy and _this_ was what it felt like to remember his Lady’s kiss. He was going to hold onto this moment for as long as he lived: the lingering mint of her toothpaste, the soft tickle of her fingers at the nape of his neck, the way her nose bumped his as their untrained lips struggled to align.

“That was… wow,” he breathed when they finally broke apart, faces both hot. “I’m going to have to thank Plagg.”

“Really?” She laughed, resting her forehead against his again. “That’s what you’re thinking about now?”

“I’m thinking about how I just got kissed by the most amazing girl, and it never would’ve happened if my kwami hadn’t let me think I had cat instincts.”

“I’ll have to thank him too, then. I’ll give you some cheese danishes from the bakery before you go.”

“You’re gonna spoil him rotten.” Adrien nuzzled her gently, savoring the warmth that spread through him at each touch. The fire and sparks of Ladybug, the gentle coziness of Marinette, all in one.

So _this_ was what the dawn felt like.

“Not as much as I plan to spoil _you,”_ she said, kissing his cheek before unthreading her hands from his hair and biting her lip. “I did warn you though, you might not want my full hundred percent. I’ve been… pretty obsessed with you, honestly.”

“Princess, just the idea of you _thinking_ about me makes me want to kiss you again.” A purr rumbled from his chest, and he didn’t bother trying to hide it. “Besides, I’m going to be the most annoying clingy boyfriend. I can’t even blame that on cat instincts anymore, either. So if you’re willing to put up with that…”

“B-boyfriend?” She stuttered, and he backpedalled.

“I’m sorry—o-only if you want, I just thought—”

“No—I mean _yes!_ Please be my boyfriend, kitty.”

He laughed breathlessly. He never thought it would be _Ladybug_ begging him to date her, and not the other way around.

“Of course. I’ve always been your kitty.”

XXX

When Alya interrogated them for looking dead on their feet the next day, well, at least they had their stories straight.

(And the sight of Adrien kissing Marinette on the lips was enough to prompt a whole different set of questions.)

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> in an ideal world i would have tied back to what ladybug's extra powers could be. this is not an ideal world  
> (just assume she asks tikki about it later)


End file.
